Still Here Hoping That One Day You May Come Back
by singyourmelody
Summary: They started running the night he graduated from high school. And he knew that as soon as they did, everything in their lives would change. Charlie, Emma, and Stan. Future-fic.
1. all i see is you and me

"**Still Here Hoping One Day You May Come Back"**

by: singyourmelody

Disclaimer: Don't own any Aaron Stone characters. Never will. Section titles are from One Republic's "Come Home" and Jay Farrar and Ben Gibbard's "One Fast Move or I'm Gone" respectively. Haven't done a chaptered fic in a while (I've been crushing on oneshots, what can I say?) so here's something different!

* * *

**i. right now there's a war between the vanities, but all i see is you and me, ****and the fight for you is all i've ever known**

They started running the night he graduated from high school.

His cap and gown were safely tucked away in his closet and he was at the annual celebratory dance. He hadn't wanted to go. After all, when you save the world on a regular basis, a graduation dance seems a bit trite and irrelevant. But he knew his mom wanted him to. As did Emma. It was really important to her for some reason, so he obliged. He swayed back and forth to the music, not really paying attention to anything but the dark haired girl moving across from him. He loved how she could get so lost in the music. As if nothing else mattered to her. Her eyes were closed, a small smile on her face, and her arms were in the air. She looked stunning. The song ended, a slower one taking its place, and he was sad to see her snap out of her rhythmic trance. Without missing a beat, however, she took a step closer to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. He stopped moving momentarily, before finally bringing his arms up to her waist. She smiled at him and whispered, "It's just a dance."

"I know, I, uh, am just not very good at dancing," he mumbled.

She closed her eyes and nestled her head into the crook of his neck. "I know."

They moved gently to the music, and he closed his eyes, trying to memorize the feeling of her skin touching his. They never did this, the two of them. They shared a lot of things, about their pasts, likes and dislikes, information about Mr. Hall's assignments, but there was always a physical distance they maintained. Tonight, however, none of those unspoken rules seemed to matter.

Suddenly, the Mission Impossible theme started blaring from his back pocket. She lifted her head and took a step away.

"Duty calls," she said, a regretful look on her face.

"Sorry," he said, as he flipped open his phone. It was a number he didn't recognize. "Hello?"

"Charlie Landers. You have no idea how long I've waited to say that name," a deep male voice stated.

"Who is this?" he asked. Emma looked at him, concern covering her face.

The speaker ignored his question. "Charlie Landers. Born March 14, 1992. Social Security number 065-74-1109. Father's name: Daniel. Mother's name: Amanda. One brother: Jason. Attends Quincy Adams High, or wait, hold that. You've _graduated_ from Quincy Adams High, haven't you, Charlie? Must've been hard to keep up with your schoolwork between chasing after that little dark haired girl of yours, maintaining your impressive Hero Rising score, and continuing all the training you'd have to do to be Aaron Stone."

Charlie froze. The words 'Aaron Stone' seem to hang in the air, amongst the balloons and streamers.

He looked at Emma. "Powers," he said, finally recognizing the voice. Her eyes grew wide and she began searching the crowd for Stan.

"Yes! I'm so glad we are finally acquainted, _Charlie_. You know, with our real names and all."

Emma grabbed his free hand and pulled him over to the food table where Stan was monitoring the punch bowl.

"What do you want from me?" Charlie asked, into the phone.

"Not much, really. Just you. You know, a fair trade for all of the things you've taken from me."

"Never."

"Oh, I was hoping you'd say that," Powers replied, his voice full and sarcastic. "Now we can make this even more fun. See you soon, Charlie."

"What do you mean—" he started, but the phone line had gone dead.

Stan looked at Emma and then back to Charlie.

"Well?"

"Elias Powers," Charlie said, his voice shaking with every word. "He knows who I am."

The three of them stood there for a moment, trying to let the realization sink in of what that meant for him, for them as a team, for everything.

"Stan?" he asked after a moment.

"Yes?"

He paused. Charlie knew he had to be the one to call it, as protocol dictated. And he knew that as soon as he did, everything in his life would change. Even more so than when he'd first became Aaron Stone.

He took a deep breath.

"Exodus."

* * *

**ii.** **and the interstates, they don't connect, where you are to what you've left**

From the moment he had started working for Mr. Hall, they had formulated this plan, the pieces ready to fall into place at a moment's notice. It had been modified over the years, so as to not raise the suspicions of his mom or brother. Somehow he'd never thought they would actually have to use it.

But here he was, digging through his closet for the bag he packed three years ago. He pulled it out and dusted it off, hoping the clothes he had put in there would still fit him.

He heard a knock at his bedroom door and found his mother standing there.

"How was the dance—what are you doing?" she asked, taking in his disorderly room.

He took a deep breath. This was going to be the hardest part. Putting on the most jubilant smile he could muster, he began the script.

"Mom, you're not going to believe this. I got in to Smithson's Honors Program! I got the call when I was at the dance. Apparently they had some student drop out at the last minute and I was the next on the list."

His mother stood there, stunned. She had been so proud when he had been accepted at Smithson University, a college several hours from their home. And although he had never even applied for their Honors Program, he had told her that he had applied and was rejected. Thus the plan.

"Wow, I, uh, that's great honey," she said, hugging him. "So why are you packing now? I get that you're excited but isn't that a little premature?"

He closed his eyes briefly. "No," he opened them again. "That's the thing about this program. It starts tomorrow. I guess the drop out was really unexpected, but they wanted to give me the chance to be in the program if I wanted it."

"Tomorrow? Well that's a little sudden. Why don't we wait till morning and then I'll call the school and explain the situation. I'm sure they'll give you a few extra days. . ."

"No!" he said, momentarily losing sight of the objective of this whole thing. He cleared his throat. "I can't miss this opportunity, mom. It's the best program out there and I'll get to do a semester abroad, and study with some of the best professors, and, um, you know, all of that stuff. I don't want to mess it up by having my mom call."

She looked hurt for a moment, but then just nodded her head. "Okay, well, I'll go get my keys. Oh wait, I've got that presentation at work tomorrow morning. Will I be back in time? It's 11:45 p.m. now and if I drive straight there and back—"

"Actually Emma said she'd take me. One last road trip for old times' sake and she's not starting her summer job for a couple of weeks, so it works out."

His mother was definitely hurt this time. Tears started to form in her eyes, and he had to look away.

"I know how important that presentation is to you, mom, and I don't want you to miss it on account of me," he said, grabbing the bag and heading for the door. "I know this is sudden and I'm sorry. But this is great for me. Really." He hugged her for a long moment and whispered in her ear one of the hardest lies he's ever had to tell.

"I'll be home soon."

* * *

**iii. one fast move or i'm gone**

He had told Jason about leaving as soon as he had gotten home from the dance.

Jason had responded in his normal way, "Okay, bye. Wait, does this mean I have to do your chores?"

Once outside his house, he started walking faster and faster, until he was running, his feet barely keeping up with his thoughts. At the nearby park, he met up with Stan and Emma. They went over everything that was supposed to have happened so far. Pack bag: check. Lie to family: check. Place Dan, Stan's lookalike "Defense Assisting Neo-human," in the Landers household to watch over his family: check.

When everything seemed to be in order, he and Stan climbed into the car they had set aside for this purpose. He tossed his bag into the back seat, only to see his bag wasn't alone.

"What the—?" he asked, turning to look at Emma, who was standing outside his car. Or had been.

When he turned back around, she was sitting in the backseat next to their belongings.

"Emma, what are you doing?"

"Coming with you."

"Um, you can't," he stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

She leaned closer to him so there was only a few inches between their faces. "I can and I am. I left a note for my parents, saying I'm at technology camp. They're gone for a few weeks anyway. You're not doing this alone."

He stared into her dark eyes for a second before relenting. "Why does that feel like a threat?"

"Because it is," she said, smirking.

"You do realize this is gonna suck, right? And is not going to be over before your 'technology camp' will be?"

"Yup, know all that. Don't really care. You know George and Phyllis aren't super involved anyway. I'd doubt they'd care too much if I left now or in a couple of months." Emma had been accepted at Smithson, as well. Her parents were never around very much, always travelling for work, which helped with the whole secret identity thing, but Charlie knew was sometimes painful for her.

Her voice lowered. "Charlie, I'm not going anywhere." She smiled at him and sat back in her seat.

Although he liked to pretend it annoyed him, he was actually grateful that the girl next door was so stubborn. Because he didn't know what was next. Or if he could do it alone.

Slowly, deliberately, he placed the key in the ignition and started the car.

* * *

_A/N: That's where I must leave you for now. I have lots of ideas about where this story could go and I haven't written a chapter fic in a long time, so I'll have to decide where exactly I want to take this. As always, I love your reviews and am grateful for them and for the fact that you read this story. Love._


	2. what i really want to say i can't define

"**Still Here Hoping That One Day You May Come Back"**

by: singyourmelody

Disclaimer: Don't own any Aaron Stone characters. Never will. Story title is from Noah and the Whale's "The First Day of Spring." Section titles are from Sublime's "Santeria," Anya Marina's "Satellite Heart," and Straylight Run's "Mistakes We Knew We Were Making" respectively.

* * *

**iv. what i really want to say i can't define**

Being "on the run" was not at all like the movies made it out to be.

For one thing, there was no suspenseful music every time they walked around a corner. There were no shady hotel receptionists just waiting to call the bad guys and let them know where he was hiding. There were shady hotels, of course. After all, they couldn't risk staying at the area Hilton. But all of the typical suspicious characters were somehow missing.

Truth be told, it was kind of boring.

Stan had crafted a complex route to the safehouse. In case anyone did happen to be following them, he had decided to take them in circles for a bit. And considering that the safehouse was 2,000 miles from home, that meant a lot of driving.

Driving. Hotel. Driving. Hotel. It had become a pattern. After they checked into the hotel, secured the room, and explored all escape routes, they had nothing to do but sit and wait.

It was a strange situation. Running for your life and yet being forced to stay inside. Playing card games to pass the time and keep your mind off the fact that someone could burst through the door at any time and kill you. Card games. As if Solitaire and Blackjack held all the answers to life's questions.

He missed the missions. He missed the adventures that they'd had. Even if it had been dangerous.

He heard a soft sigh. Taking his eyes off the road for a moment, he looked at the girl curled up in the passenger seat and took a moment to thank the world that she was with him. He loved Stan, he did. But sometimes Charlie just needed to talk to someone who, well, who _wasn't_ Stan.

The pale yellow light of "The Hideaway and Save Motel" sign came into his view. He chuckled for a moment at the irony of that name. He was positive they could hide here. But as far as being saved? He wasn't so sure. What did being saved even mean?

* * *

**v. i'm spun out so far, you stop, i'll start**

Stan inserted the room key, opened the door and peered in.

"Eww," he said.

"That bad, huh?" Emma replied, ushering Stan in and flipping on the light switch. The three of them stood in the middle of the room and surveyed the scene. The serene landscape photo above the bed was tilted to one side, the carpet hadn't been vacuumed who knew how long, and the bathroom could have used a good cleaning.

"Not the worst one so far," Charlie said, trying to be optimistic.

"Oh, you're right," Emma agreed. "'The King's Castle' was by far the worst. I think I saw a bug make its bed on Stan's head when he was powered down there. So bad," she shook her head, before gasping in delight. "Charlie, look!"

He turned quickly at the sound she made, ready for whatever threat might be coming at them. "What, what is it?" he hurried to her side.

"The T.V. I think we could actually hook it up!" she gestured to the black box and held up the gaming console she took everywhere with her. So far, none of the hotels they had stayed at had televisions that could handle his complex gaming system, so Charlie had fallen far behind on his Aaron Stone training.

"Oh, um, good?" he said, his shoulders relaxing.

"Charlie, we've been over this," Stan interjected. "You need to still be training. In case Powers or any other of the Omega Defiance members catch up to us."

Emma poked him in the ribs. "We can't have you getting soft on us, Charlie," she said smiling.

"I know. But what's the point anymore? I mean, really. I'm practically an inactive agent," he asked.

Stan stood right in front of him. "You are not inactive until Mr. Hall informs you of such. Till then, you are still Aaron Stone, I am still your Sentient Tactical Assisting Neo-Human, and Emma is still your Weapons Specialist. Understood?" he questioned, his voice getting stronger with every word.

Charlie looked at Emma, who just shrugged.

"Okay, I'll continue with the game."

"Good, you've prevented me from having to slap you to snap you out of it," Stan replied.

"What?" Charlie asked, incredulously.

"Something I saw in a film once," Stan said. Turning to Emma, he said, "Looked fun."

She laughed and began hooking up the system.

Two hours later, Stan had powered down and Emma and Charlie sat on the edge of the bed, working their way through the thirty-five levels Charlie needed to learn. At level ten, Emma set down the controller.

"I'm exhausted Charlie. And you're almost a third of the way caught up. Let's call it a night."

"Alright," he said, as he stood up and turned off the console. Walking to the other side of the room to get his bag, he jumped when he heard Emma gasp.

"What?" he asked as he once again hurried to where she was standing.

"Charlie, how did we not notice this before?"

"Notice what?" he asked, panicking a little, as his brain rushed through all of the things that could possibly go wrong. There were a lot of them.

She didn't say anything, just pointed. He followed her arm to the tilted picture above the bed.

"What? I saw that picture before. Pretty ugly actually and of course, it's crooked, but I don't see how. . ."

"Not the picture, Charlie. The bed. There's only one."

* * *

**vi. still i'm convinced, wondering **_**what if**_** is the worst thing there is**

_This is not a big deal. This is not a big deal. This is not a big deal._Charlie told himself over and over again. Sure he was sleeping in the same bed with a girl for the first time. Sure he had almost punched out a completely innocent motel clerk over not being able to change their room for the first time. Sure he was clutching the side of the bed like it was a lifeline for the first time. Really. So not a big deal.

_Only, it is a big deal_, he realized as he let go of the sheet and turned, ever so gently onto his back, careful not to touch the girl sleeping next to him.

"You're still awake aren't you?" a voice next to him asked.

He squeezed his eyes shut and pretended to be asleep for a moment, before realizing that she was still awake too.

"Yes. Why aren't you asleep? I thought you were exhausted," he asked back.

"I am. I just, feel . . . weird. This shouldn't be weird. I mean we've been doing everything together for the past what month and a half now?" she said talking faster and faster. He smiled. She always talked way too fast when she was nervous. "Eating, driving, playing games, reading, everything, but it still feels, just strange," she said, turning so she was also lying on her back. They stared at the ceiling in the dark, arms parallel to one another.

"It feels weird for me too," he said quietly.

"Yeah?" she asked, turning her head in his general direction.

"Um, yeah," he said laughing a little bit.

For a half an hour, he listened to her breathing, waiting for some indication that she was asleep. But her breathing never seemed to even out.

He waited and waited, knowing that she was going to have to be the first one to fall asleep if he even had a chance to. He was sure she was asleep when slowly, he felt her hand reach over and cover his. Charlie didn't know what to think, what this simple gesture might mean, or not mean, what it might change, or not change in their relationship.

He lay perfectly still, before finally shushing the thoughts in his head, and turning his hand over so that their palms were touching.

They laid like that for a while, no sound in the room but their slow and even breathing. It matched perfectly.

Finally, she turned over onto her side to look at him. His hand was cold as soon as hers left it.

"Want to keep playing?" she asked. "I don't think I'm going to be getting much sleep tonight."

"Yes," he said quickly, sitting up and moving to start up the gaming system again.

* * *

_A/N: Another pause. Thanks for reading and reviewing. I know this section wasn't as long as the previous one, but I hope to update again soon. Love. _


	3. all exits look the same

"**Still Here Hoping That One Day You May Come Back"**

by: singyourmelody

Disclaimer: Don't own any Aaron Stone characters. Never will. Story title is from Noah and the Whale's "The First Day of Spring." Section titles are from The Avett Brothers' "I and Love and You" and "The Perfect Space" and Switchfoot's "24" respectively.

* * *

**vii. the highway sets the travelers stage : all exits look the same **

Stan had become a Mama Bear.

Charlie wasn't really surprised. Stan had always had nurturing instincts, most likely programmed into his hard drive, and he was diligent about making sure they were eating their vegetables ("Strive for five!"), that they were exercising as much as possible ("Another three laps around the restaurant won't hurt you"), and that they were safe. Oh, was he meticulous about their safety.

Which is why Stan was driving, as he deemed Charlie too worn down to be performing such a "strenuous" task, when the call came in from Mr. Hall.

The highway stretched out long before them, but Stan began going into transmittal mode, so he pulled off to the side.

Charlie eagerly waited for the message from Mr. Hall, but all he heard was silence. He shot Emma a look from the backseat, as they watched Stan nod up and down, apparently very interested in something that Charlie and Emma were not privy to.

They hadn't heard from Mr. Hall since they began running. Or so he thought. Charlie was now beginning to wonder if Stan had been receiving messages all along that he hadn't been sharing with them.

Stan finished the call and then turned to Charlie and Emma. He gave a small smile, a nod, and then turned the key in the ignition.

"Seriously, Stan? That's all you're going to give us?" Charlie asked.

"What did Mr. Hall say?" Emma questioned.

"Just the normal status update. He wanted to know how you were doing. I said everything's fine," Stan replied, clicking on his blinker.

"You didn't say anything, Stan, except 'I understand, sir,'" Charlie stated.

"Oh, well, I communicated it to him in my tone. Let's keep going, shall we?"

Emma turned to look out the back window. "Uh, guys, we have a problem."

"What?" Charlie asked, following her gaze.

Pulling up behind them was a police officer, his car lights flashing bright shades of blue and red.

"Stan, you have a license, right?" Emma questioned.

"Emma, I am perfectly capable of operating this motor vehicle and I—"

"But do you have a license? You know, the little plastic card. Gives you legal permission to 'operate this motor vehicle'?" she asked again.

"Give me one second. . ." Stan replied.

The officer got out of his car and headed towards theirs.

"Oh, so not good," Charlie muttered as he watched Stan stick his finger in his right ear and twist.

"What are you—?"

They heard a faint ding and Stan reached into his ear, pulling out a newly printed license. "Got it!" he said excitedly.

"Most people just keep it in their wallet," Emma said, dryly.

* * *

**viii. i wanna fit in to the perfect space**

To say the police officer was suspicious of them would be an understatement.

At first he had just wanted to know why they were pulled over on the side of the highway. But then Stan had started talking. And oversharing. And before long, the police office looked like he didn't believed a single thing Stan said about Charlie being his son, Emma being Charlie's girlfriend, and the three of them taking a roadtrip before Charlie and Emma left for college.

The story _was_ plausible. It just wasn't true.

However, in recent weeks, Charlie had become an expert at lying. And sometimes when you lie enough to other people, you can start lying to yourself. And those lies you tell yourself are easier than dealing with the truth day after day, week after week, month after month.

Which is what this "roadtrip" had turned into. A month after month sort of a thing. And Charlie was getting tired of it all.

Sure he called home occasionally, from various pay phones sprinkled across the country. He told his mom of the classes he was taking and of his sloppy roommate John, who, while being in the Honors Program with Charlie, was so messy he made Jason look like Mary Poppins. He spoke highly of his professors, especially Dr. Howard who had taken a special interest in him and suggested he apply for a research assistant position during the spring semester. He even told her about a girl he met, Susanna, who seems interested, but might be way out of his league.

Successful lying was all about details. And his mom had sounded so excited, asking him when Parents Weekend was, what kind of cookies she should send in the mail, and whether he wanted to bring any of his new friends home for the weekend sometime, especially the new girl.

A lump had formed in his throat as he responded to her questions. He hated lying. But like all things, practice makes perfect.

He turned his attention back to Stan's bumbling at the officer's questions. If he didn't do something soon, all of their hiding would be for nothing.

Pulling out his iPod, he did the most stereotypical teenagery thing he could think of. He sighed heavily, popped the buds into his ears, and started blaring a rock song so loud that the officer, Stan, and Emma all turned and looked at him. Meeting their gazes, he angrily replied, "What? We're obviously going to be here a while."

* * *

**ix. life is not what i thought it was twenty-four hours ago**

Sam's All-Night Diner was in the throes of the dinner rush. Waitresses were hustling about taking orders and delivering them, cooks were calling out numbers, and the radio was blaring the latest pop hits. But table seventeen was silent.

Finally Emma set her menu down. "You have to tell us, Stan."

"Tell you what?" he asked, innocently.

"What Mr. Hall said in the car." Charlie's antics had been enough to convince the officer that Stan and Charlie were related, much to their relief.

"I don't think we need to talk about that now, Emma. We're about to have dinner."

"Then when will be a good time?" Charlie asked, his voice rising a bit with each word.

"Two weeks from now? Next month? Sometime in that vicinity? Ooh, the Half-Baked Seafood Surprise looks good."

"Stan," Charlie said, firmly. "What is going on?" his eyes narrowed.

"We're a team. You have to tell us, no matter what it is," Emma stated.

Stan looked down at the table. Finally he said quietly, "Charlie, you've been deactivated."

Charlie nodded, quietly breathing in and out, focusing on the ticking of the clock, the scraping of forks on plates, the ding the bell above the door made as it opened, closed, opened, closed. He was done. Aaron Stone was a thing of the past. And it was a good thing, right? No more running. Life back as it once was.

He continued nodding slowly, staring at the half-full salt and pepper shakers, as the words washed over him. _Deactivated_. Deactivated. De. Activated.

"What exactly does that mean, Stan?" Emma asked.

"It means that Charlie is no longer Aaron Stone."

"Right, I get that, but why now? Why not at the graduation dance when his identity was found out?" Emma pressed. Charlie was grateful she was asking these questions. He knew he would want to know the answers. Later, when all of it had finally sunk in.

"I'm not at liberty to say—"

"Stan!" Emma exclaimed. "C'mon."

He sighed, before saying, "Mr. Hall has enlisted Original Phoenix. He will be taking over Aaron Stone's duties."

Emma sat back in her seat.

"Who is Original Phoenix?" she questioned.

"Another player in the Hero Rising universe, of course," Stan said, shrugging.

"So, wait. Charlie hasn't been deactivated, he's been replaced."

"What? No, it's not that, it's just—" Stan began to protest. The word "replaced" snapped Charlie out of his deactivated-induced stupor.

"Replaced? Mr. Hall has replaced me. I guess without my identity, I'm damaged goods as a fighter," he said out loud, not angry, not overwhelmed, just matter of fact.

"Charlie. . ." Stan started, his tone a bit softer.

"No, no, I get it. It's over. Can we just go home now?"

"Actually, no you can't."

"What?" Charlie said, shocked. "Why not?"

"Just because you're deactivated doesn't mean that Powers or the Omega Defiance don't still want to hurt you," Stan explained.

"But I'm done. I'm not fighting them anymore. What would they want with me?"

"Revenge," Emma said quietly.

Charlie looked at Stan hard. "So, let me see if I've got this straight. I'm not Aaron Stone anymore. Fine. I don't work for Mr. Hall anymore, I don't fight the Omega Defiance anymore. Fine. And yet I still can't go home. We're still on the run and there's clearly no end in sight. That's not fine, Stan. I can't run forever!"

"It's only be two months, Charlie. Not forever."

"But how long until two months is two years? I can't do that, not to my family. And Emma can't do that either," he protested.

"Emma won't be doing it forever. We've both been reassigned to Original Phoenix," Stan said softly, staring down at his hands.

Silence.

* * *

_A/N: Sorry to leave you with a cliff hanger of sorts, but it actually feels like a natural place to stop. I hope you all had a wonderful and merry Christmas. Thanks for reading and reviewing. Love to all._


	4. the world i've discovered

"**Still Here Hoping That One Day You May Come Back"**

by: singyourmelody

Disclaimer: Don't own any Aaron Stone characters. Never will. Story title is from Noah and the Whale's "The First Day of Spring." Section titles are from Matt Hires' "Out of the Dark," Yellowcard's "Empty Apartment" and Elizabeth and the Catapult's "Just in Time" respectively.

* * *

**x. cause the world i've discovered, it feels nothing like my heart**

"Charlie."

"Charlie."

"Charlie, _stop_. Or slow down at least."

He heard the voice behind him but he ignored it as he hurried outside. He stopped at the edge of the parking lot, looking out into the wooded area surrounding the diner. It was dark. Very dark. As if the moon had decided to abandon him along with his best friend and his mentor.

Emma caught up to him and lightly touched his arm.

"It's gonna be okay. We'll work this out. There must be some misunderstanding. I know Mr. Hall wouldn't just cut you off like this," she said quietly and quickly, but the words sounded muddled to his ears.

He shrugged her hand off and kept staring straight ahead.

Stan finally came outside as well. He stood next to Charlie. For a few moments, there was just silence.

"I know this is hard, Charlie—" Stan began.

And then something inside of him snapped, as if all of his senses came alive at once.

"Hard? _Hard? _Stan, what am I going to do?" Charlie turned and faced him.

"The safehouse is still available to you. I'll give you the directions and you can just continue on from here. Just without Emma and I," Stan replied.

Charlie nodded, biting his bottom lip.

"Fine. Fine. That's all fine. What do I do when I get to the safehouse? Stay there until I'm eighty years old and Powers and the Omega Defiance are too old to do anything to me?"

"Well, no. You'll stay there for a while and then you'll be given a new identity and relocated. It's somewhat like the witness protection program."

"And what happens to my mom? And Jason? If anything happens to them, I swear I will—" Charlie said, angrily.

"Nothing will happen to them. Dan will remain with them, under the guise of Stan of course, until it is determined that the threat is no longer there," Stan stated, as if he was giving a status report.

"But I won't ever get to see them again. Isn't that right?" he asked.

"Yes, you're right," Stan said quietly.

Charlie nodded again, not making eye contact. He walked a little away from Stan and Emma before turning to look at them.

"How am I supposed to explain this to them, Stan? My mother will come looking for me, I know she will. Is she just supposed to think I've vanished?"

Stan cleared his throat. "Not exactly. Whenever we've had situations like this, we've done the only thing there is to do to clearly sever the familial bond."

"Oh and what is that?" Charlie said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"We have to tell your family that you're dead."

* * *

**xi. it's okay to be angry and never let go : it only gets harder the more that you know**

"Stan, we can't do that!" the words were his own, but they weren't coming from his mouth.

"Emma, please stay out of this," Stan requested politely.

"No, I won't. This is absolutely ludicrous. We can't put Charlie's mom and brother through that kind of pain. Not when they've lost Charlie's dad."

"Emma, it's for their own protection. I know it's a terrible situation, but by putting them through emotional pain, we are saving them from physical pain," Stan said.

Charlie thought for a moment. "Was this always the plan, Stan? When we first left, Emma and I didn't know where we were going or when we would get to the safehouse, but that was okay, because you knew and we trusted you. And we never asked questions about what would happen when we got there. But now. . . now it's all different. I'm losing all connection to Mr. Hall, so I won't have the resources to know when Powers or the Omega Defiance might be closing in. Which is why we have to tell my mom and Jason that I'm dead and create a new identity for me. Right? The plan has changed, because Mr. Hall has made me inactive, right?"

Stan didn't answer his question and looked away. "Oh, Stan. C'mon! This _was_ always the plan, wasn't it? Get Charlie to the safehouse and then convince him to never go back to his pre-Aaron Stone life. And now that Mr. Hall has got a new poster boy for saving the world, I'm not needed. Yesterday's news and all that. I never would've left with you if I had known that I would have to lie to my family like, like what you're suggesting. I would've done something else, anything else."

"Charlie, you have to listen to me. By staying away from your family forever, you are giving them the greatest gift you could ever give them. Their lives. You are saving them, just like you've done so many times when you've stopped the Omega Defiance. If you go back, you will most certainly be endangering them. Which is why you have to stay away," Stan said, gripping both of Charlie's shoulders.

Charlie took a step back from Stan. He wanted time to process. Time to think over all of his options. But he didn't need to, not really. As much as he liked to think he had a choice about this whole situation, deep down he knew Stan was right. It was the only thing that would ensure his family's safety. He hated this. All of it. The fact that he had grown accustomed to their crazy traveling life and didn't want to see it end. The fact that his mom and brother would be devastated to learn of his "death." And the fact that he would soon be completely and utterly alone.

"Okay," he said, resigned.

"Charlie, no!" Emma protested. "You both know that this is the wrong move. We need to be preparing to fight the Omega Defiance and Powers, not backing down and hiding for the rest of Charlie's life. There's only one way to end this and return everything to normal."

"Emma," Charlie said, quietly. "We can't defeat them. Not all of them and not in the time frame we would need to do it in."

She took a step closer to him and looked right into his eyes. "When did you become Mr. Defeated? When did you stop thinking that the destruction of the Omega Defiance was possible? The Charlie I knew never thought that goal was out of reach."

"Well, the Charlie you knew was also Aaron Stone. And I'm not him. Not anymore," he said.

Emma paused. "Don't you get it, Charlie? You've always been him. And not because you put on some tacky suit or because I gave you some helpful gadget. It's in here," she placed her hand over his heart.

"Emma," he said, shaking his head and stepping away.

She stood rooted in place, a look of disbelief on her face. "Stan?" she questioned, hopeful that he agreed with her.

"We really do need to go, Emma. I've called the SSJ. Charlie, the car is all yours now," he said as he tossed Charlie the keys, not quite meeting his eyes. Charlie thought he saw some pain in Stan's eyes, but he couldn't be sure. "Directions to the safehouse are in the glove compartment. I- I'm- I'm sorry," he said, his voice thick with emotion, before turning and walking away.

Taking the cue from Stan, Charlie too turned and headed to the car.

"What, that's it?" Emma asked as she stood in the middle of the ever growing distance between Charlie and Stan. "Years of working together comes down to this 'goodbye' in the parking lot of a crappy diner?"

"Emma, we have our orders," Stan stated, regaining his composure.

Emma stood perfectly still as she watched Charlie's retreating form. She stared at him and then at Stan.

"And I'm completely ignoring them," she finally stated before hurrying to catch Charlie.

"Emma!" she heard Stan yell after her.

She quickly fell into step with Charlie.

"What are you doing?" he asked, as he continued walking.

"Coming with you."

"But why?" he said as he got into the driver's seat.

She slid into the passenger seat next to him. Turning her head to look at him, she gave him a small smile, the most she could muster at the moment. "You know why."

* * *

**xii. these are the first hands to tremble in my own**

"Okay, so we have the directions. And we still have the cash supply, which should cover us for a while. Where was that map Stan was using?" Emma asked as she searched through the glove compartment.

"Hmm?" Charlie asked, lost in his own thoughts as he was driving.

After a few miles, he pulled to the side of the road.

"Get out," he said to Emma.

"What?" she asked incredulously. "No."

"Emma, I can't let you do this. Stan probably hasn't left yet. Get out."

"No."

He set his head back on the seat. "You can be so stubborn sometimes. I'm serious. I won't let you give up your life, your future for me. It doesn't make any sense. So just drop the courageous act for two seconds and think about what this means. I'm losing everything about myself. Forever. And starting over. Which is actually pretty ironic because I haven't even really started yet. I'm hurting my family. I'm destroying every relationship I've ever had," he sighed. "And I have to do it. But you don't. So just stop all of this and get out of the car."

"Well how about this _Aaron_," she said irately, "why don't _you_ drop the courageous act for two seconds? I know you. And I know you're terrified to do this alone. I would be, too. And I'd want someone with me. Especially if that someone was my best friend."

"It's just that, you're giving up an awful lot," he said looking down at his hands.

"Don't you think I'm gaining something too?" she asked.

He laughed, harshly. "What could you be possibly gaining from all of this?"

"Adventure? The thrill of the open road? The fact that we won't be split up?" she said, looking out the window.

He smiled as she said this. Slowly, he reached over and took her hand. It was shaking. But then he realized that his was as well.

"Are you scared?" he asked.

"Yes," she whispered.

"Me too. But I'm glad you're with me."

"Me too."

* * *

_A/N: Gah, another pause. It's way too early in the morning for me to continue, and it feels like a good pausing point. I feel like a lot happened in this chapter, but then again not a lot happened. Weird. As usual, thank you so much for reading and reviewing. Hope the new year is treating you well. Love. _


	5. if you could hide beside me

"**Still Here Hoping That One Day You May Come Back"**

by: singyourmelody

Disclaimer: Don't own any Aaron Stone characters. Never will. Story title is from Noah and the Whale's "The First Day of Spring." Section titles are from Goo Goo Dolls' "Name," The Fray's "Trust Me," and Noah and the Whale's "Blue Skies" respectively. Charlie's password is the poem "This is Just to Say" by William Carlos Williams, a poem that is so strange and so wonderful at the same time. I do however own the Parcells. They are quite a lovely bunch. I'm glad they are mine.

* * *

**xiii. if you could hide beside me maybe for a while**

"Are you sure this is the right address?" Emma asked. They were slouched down in the front seats of the car, Charlie peering at the house over the map.

"It's what Stan gave us."

Emma narrowed her eyes. "It's just so. . ."

"Ordinary," Charlie finished for her.

"Yeah, like I could see any old Joe Schmo living here. It's suburbia for crying out loud!"

"What did you expect? Some sort of techno-palace with motion sensor sliding doors and metallic shutters?" Charlie said smiling. It felt good to smile.

The house _was_ ordinary. White paint, blue shutters, a picket fence that ran the length of the yard. All that was missing was a golden retriever and 2.5 kids playing on the perfectly manicured lawn.

They sat silently in the car for a few moments.

"Are you ready to go in?" Charlie asked quietly.

Emma smiled at him. "Let's do it."

They surveyed their surroundings and then slowly, deliberately got out of the car and walked up the sidewalk.

Charlie didn't know what to think when the front door opened. He half expected to see Mr. Hall there. But then he remembered that Hall had practically disowned him and that the likelihood of the two of them meeting up anytime soon was slim.

He did not expect to see a tired middle aged woman, bright red hair slightly askew, holding a baby on her hip.

"Yes?" she questioned. Charlie and Emma saw two other children running around the room behind the woman.

"Um, Mrs.—" Charlie looked quickly at the paper Stan had given them "Parcell, is it?"

"Yes?" the woman responded.

"Eleanor Parcell?"

"Yes," she said, impatiently. "What can I do for you?"

Charlie looked quickly at Emma before saying quietly, "'I have eaten the plums that were in the icebox and which you were probably saving for breakfast. Forgive me, they were delicious. So sweet and so cold.'"

Emma stared at him.

But the woman's weary expression changed. "Come in, come in!" she said, ushering them into the house and peering outside before shutting the door behind them.

"That actually worked?" Emma whispered to Charlie as they entered the house.

"Um, that's actually the password."

"Oh. I thought you made that up because you thought it sounded like a password," she said.

He rolled his eyes. "Come on now. It's like a totally famous poem." He smirked at Emma, thankful that something Stan had taught him had stuck.

"Please sit down," Eleanor said as she gestured towards the couch. "What are your names? We haven't hosted anyone in so long I was wondering if they even still needed us. But then we got the call. I have to admit I thought you would've been here long before now. Or not at all. Forgive me, I'm talking a lot. I just don't get to talk to 'grown-ups' much around here," she said, gesturing to the toys lining the carpet and the little baby she bounced on her knee.

"I'm Charlie, this is Emma. We also thought we'd be here a while ago. We've been um, _deterred_, a lot. But we finally made it," he half smiled.

"And I'm so glad you're here. Like I said, I'm Eleanor. This is Jack," she said, looking at the baby. "Mariella and Stephen are running around here somewhere and my husband Jim should be home soon. I am a little confused, however. We were told we'd only be hosting one person. I must admit we're not prepared for two."

"Oh, well we can leave if that'd be better for you. . ." Charlie said, standing and holding his hand out to Emma.

"No, no. Sit sit. I just meant that we don't have linens and whatnot prepared for both of you. Easily something we can fix. We'll just have to work out the sleeping arrangements. I'm assuming you are not, um, _together _together," Eleanor asked deliberately and in a motherly tone. Charlie didn't realize till that moment how much he missed his mother's voice.

Both he and Emma gave out a nervous laugh. "Not _together _together," Emma said.

"Okay, fine fine. That would've complicated the sleeping arrangements. Not sure how we would've explained that to Mariella and Stephen. They're at that age where they've started asking so many questions about everything. Including things we're not ready to explain to them yet. Why don't you go get your things and—" Eleanor was interrupted by a large crash.

"Mariella! Stephen! What did you do now? Here, will you hold him?" Eleanor handed the baby to Emma as she ran out of the room.

Charlie turned and looked at Emma, who looked more than little terrified to be holding a small child.

"Um?" she questioned.

"Hi Jack," Charlie said, picking up a toy from the floor and waving it in front of the baby. He gave out a small laugh. And then a big sob. And then proceeded to wail at the top of his lungs.

"Oh no, no, no," Emma exclaimed. She started rocking the baby back and forth. "Come on Jack. You're okay. Just smile. It'll be okay."

Charlie proceeded to wave every toy that had been on the floor in front of Jack. And then made every funny face he could think of, but nothing seemed to be working. The baby was getting louder, if that was even possible.

Emma let out a small laugh. "Some parents we're gonna be someday, huh?" she smiled at Charlie. Until the realization of what she had just said sunk in. "I mean, not you and me necessarily. Um, together I mean. You and me separately, what kind of parents we're going to be separately. I mean. I um. . ."

Charlie raised his eyebrows at her mumbling before reaching over and brushing the back of her hand with his. "Hey, it's okay. I know what you meant. And contrary to what you may think, I think you're gonna be an awesome mom someday."

She continued rocking the baby back and forth. He seemed to slowly be getting quieter and almost seemed to be dozing off to sleep.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome," he said locking eyes with her.

Eleanor walked back into the living room. "No worries. Just a broken lamp. And two very in-trouble children. And . . . oh, look. You got Jack to go to sleep! Wonderful, now you stay there while I start dinner. Are you both hungry?"

The mention of food snapped Charlie and Emma out of their thoughts.

"Starved."

* * *

**xiv. it just goes to show : you need me less than i need you**

It only took Charlie until the second course (a delicious Caesar salad full of the seasoned croutons that you could never get at a local diner) for him to realize that Jim Parcell might be the funniest, most sincere man he's ever met.

Jim came home from work, entering through the front door, set down his briefcase, and then quickly proceeded to trip on baby Jack's Baby Bouncy and fell flat on his face.

Standing, shaking himself off, and seeing Emma and Charlie's wide eyes, he laughed and said in an almost authentic Cuban accent, "Lucy, I'm home!"

As he passed the peas, Charlie studied the face of the man who they'd put their trust in. He couldn't be more than mid-thirties but somehow his face looked older. As if he had seen a lot of hard things. Things that no person should have to see. But he also had a strong look about him. As if he'd realized that there was never one thing, never one experience that could define a person.

"How'd you get your hair so shiny?" Charlie heard from the small girl to his right. He looked at Emma.

She was taken aback at the question but quickly recovered. "Well, the secret is to always brush your hair when your mommy tells you to and to make sure you eat lots of vegetables. Especially peas. Peas make your hair very shiny," she replied.

Mariella's eyes sparkled. "Is that true mommy? I want my hair to be just as shiny as Emma's. She's got the prettiest hair of anyone in my class. Even prettier than Sarah Smith's."

Eleanor nodded in approval towards Emma. "Yes I've heard that peas can be very good for your hair. So you should eat up!" She scooped up another helping and put it on Mariella's plate.

After dinner, Emma helped Eleanor and the children make cookies while Jim called Charlie to the garage.

Entering the garage, Charlie saw a beat up car. Upon closer inspection he realized that it was a '56 Thunderbird. Or what a '56 Thunderbird might have been once.

"Are you restoring this?" Charlie asked as he touched the chipped paint. "It's amazing."

"Yeah," Jim said, picking up a wrench. "Slowly I am. It takes patience you know. When I first got it, you couldn't tell that it had ever even been a car let alone a Thunderbird. But I come out here almost every night to work on it. She's starting to clean up pretty well, huh?"

They stood there in silence for a bit.

"You wanna help?" Jim asked finally.

"Yes, please," Charlie said, excited about something for the first time in a long time.

"Why don't you grab that scraper over there? We need to start stripping the old paint."

The soft hum of the old being scraped away was the only sound in the garage for quite some time.

"So, Charlie, tell me about yourself. Not too much detail, of course, but something."

"Not much to tell really," Charlie said quietly. "Got mixed up in something I shouldn't have. Thought I was helping people. And I was for a while. Then it kinda blew up. Emma's along for the ride."

"Ah, Emma. We can talk about her in a second."

"We don't have to—" Charlie started, but Jim shot him a knowing smile.

"Well, you can't tell me too much about your life, but I can tell you about mine. You want to hand me that screwdriver?" Charlie did as he was asked as Jim continued. "I was very much in your position once. Worked for a man who was out to save the world. I'm pretty sure you know him."

Charlie dropped the scraper he was holding. "You worked for _Mr. Hall_?"

Jim chuckled. "Yes, yes I did. It was a long time ago now."

"Mr. Hall. _Mr. Hall_. The Mr. Hall who has cut me off from everyone I love. When all I did was everything that he asked," Charlie asked incredulously.

Jim paused for a moment. "It's hard to understand now, Charlie, but Mr. Hall is only human. It's easy to forget that when he shows up seemingly out of nowhere. . ."

". . . half covered in shadows," Charlie continued for him.

"He still does that?" Jim laughed a full laugh. "Oh, Abner. But in all seriousness, and I know this is hard to understand, Abner Hall is a human just like you and me. And just like you and me, he makes mistakes. It's easy to become so focused on your goals that you lose the means to accomplishing them."

Charlie didn't say anything but continued scraping the paint.

Jim laid down under the car. "It's like this car, Charlie. I have to comb over every part of it, replacing pretty much all of it. But sometimes, sometimes, I find a bolt that isn't completely rusted out. Or a wire that could be refashioned to be workable. And those are the parts that I take out of the car. I work on them individually, strengthening them until they are ready to be used again. And then I will put them back in their rightful place." He paused and slid out from under the vehicle. "A restored car with original parts. Well, that's the most valuable of them all, isn't it?" He gave Charlie a half smile.

Charlie was just about to ask how you know when to restore a part or when to just turn it into scrap metal when the garage door swung open.

"Boys, cookies are ready," Eleanor called.

"You haven't tasted anything until you've tasted Ellie's cookies," Jim stated, brushing off his hands. "They might be why I married her."

Charlie tried to push what Jim had said about Mr. Hall to the back of his mind. "I'm sure," he replied as he headed for the door.

"Oh and Charlie," Jim said, "don't think you've gotten off scot free about Emma. There's a story there, I can smell it." He laughed and entered the house.

* * *

**xv. blue skies are calling, but i know that it's hard**

_The children were nestled all snug in their beds as visions of sugarplums danced in their heads_, or something like that, Emma thought as she wandered up and down the Parcells' upstairs hallway. Photos of the family lined the walls telling a story of their own. A family vacation to the beach. Grandparents from one side or the other. Mariella and Stephen when they were two or three years old laying in the sun on a blanket. Jim and Eleanor's wedding day. Emma couldn't help by notice how young they were. Not much older than Charlie and herself. And how happy and carefree they appeared. As if they knew their whole life was before them ready for the taking.

Mariella and Stephen had insisted that Emma be the one to tuck them in. And she loved being needed by someone.

She told them a story of a lonely princess who yearned for adventure in the great world outside of her tower. They were asleep before she even got to the dragon or how the years the princess had spent learning tae kwon do had finally come in handy. She tiptoed out of their room and found herself outside of Charlie's door. Ever so softly she knocked.

After a second, he opened the door to let her in. She didn't say anything, just walked over and sat on his bed.

"Isn't it funny that we haven't even been here twenty-four hours and I already feel more at home here than I did spending eighteen years in my parents' house?" she said, taking in the pinstripe blue wallpaper and the painting of a sunset on the guest room walls.

"Emma, I—" he began, but she stopped him.

"Charlie, it's okay. This is my life now. Everything is okay," she touched his arm, gently, smiling.

"Did you know the Jim used to work for Mr. Hall?" Charlie asked.

"What? No, I didn't know that. Does he know how we can contact Mr. Hall? Oh, this changes everything. If we can contact Mr. Hall or even Stan, we might be able to better figure out how to defeat the Omega Defiance and then we can work towards getting our lives back," she rambled.

"Emma. Emma! Slow down. Even if Jim knew how to contact Mr. Hall, do you honestly think Hall would help us? We're a liability now. You know that. It's why I was deactivated in the first place."

Emma narrowed her eyes and looked at him. Really looked at him. He squirmed a bit. He didn't like being under her glare. As if she could see right into his thoughts.

"Charlie, you have got to be kidding me," she said finally, turning away from him. "You still don't want to fight them, do you? You just want to give up and hide forever."

"No, not forever."

"Then until when? Hmm? When do you snap out of your whatever it is you are in and realize that this is the time for us to be planning a counterattack?" she questioned.

He didn't say anything so she turned back and faced him. He looked down refusing to meet her eyes.

"Charlie. _Charlie_. Come on. You know this is the right thing to do. To fight for your identity. So that you can be reunited with your family."

"But Stan said—"

"Forget what Stan said. He doesn't get it. You know what to do."

He sat down on his bed and asked, "How can you have so much faith in me? So much faith that we could actually do this?"

She shrugged. "Because I know you. And I know me. And I know that nobody better cross our path when we've set our minds on something." She smiled at him.

Charlie looked up at the girl who had stood by him for how many months now. Had given up her future for his. Had become his best friend and had somehow managed to fill up every little corner of his life.

And he did the only thing he could think of.

He stood up and kissed her.

* * *

_A/N: A terrible place to leave you, I know. And I'm sorry that this update had taken so long. Life has kinda been kicking my butt lately leaving me with little or no time for writing. But I'm back now and I will really try to get the next part up faster. I appreciate all of you reading and reviewing. Love. _


	6. rush me but leave time to wake

"**Still Here Hoping That One Day You May Come Back"**

by: singyourmelody

Disclaimer: Don't own any Aaron Stone characters. Never will. Story title is from Noah and the Whale's "The First Day of Spring." Section titles are from Wild Light's "Call Home," Gavin Degraw's "Dancing Shoes," and Kate Nash's "Pumpkin Soup" respectively.

I want to apologize for how long it has taken me to update this story. I was a bit taken aback after watching the season two premiere by how much the Aaron Stone storyline has changed. It really threw this story for a loop, since what I had been planning all along no longer would have made sense. So, I had to do some retooling which has taken longer than expected. My apologies. That being said, there are major spoilers for the season two premiere at the end of this chapter. I wouldn't read it if you don't want to know what happens . . . on to the story!

* * *

**xvi. is this glass full of water or is it full of light?**

The sunlight slowly crept through the shades, as Charlie opened his eyes. Morning. He took in the room that had begun to actually feel like his own. They had been staying with the Parcells for three weeks and had been mostly housebound in that time. The photos and paintings on the walls, the creaks of the floor, the smells of Eleanor's fabric softener had all started to become familiar. And he loved that fact.

He climbed out of bed, grabbing his cell phone off his nightstand. Flipping it open, he saw the usual message: no missed calls. What was he expecting really? Most everyone he knew thought he was dead.

Without thinking, his fingers dialed his home number. He stared at the phone. He had done this countless times since arriving at the Parcells, yet he never hit "send." He couldn't. It was too risky. But sometimes, he just wished he could hear his mother's disapproving tone when she was mad at him or the pitch of Jason's voice as his explained another one of his ridiculous schemes one more time. Just so he knew they were okay. Because if they were okay without him, maybe he could realize that he could be okay without them. Maybe.

_Send._ It was so easy really. One little jerk of his finger and he listened silently as the wonders of technology worked to connect him to his old life.

"Hello?" his mother's voice answered.

"Um, yes, hello. Is there a Mrs. Laanders there?" he asked, deliberately mispronouncing their last name.

"Yes, this is she," his mother replied quietly.

"Hello Mrs. Laanders, my name is Bruce and I'm calling from Worthington Publications. We're running a two for one special on our magazine subscriptions if you sign up today and we were wondering if you would be interested in participating in this special offer?" he said, quickly, thankful that he had become so good at lying.

"Oh, well. I haven't really been . . . no, no I'm not interested. Thank you for calling," his mother said. He noticed how her voice sounded pained.

"Ma'am, I see here that your subscription to Good Housekeeping is almost up. Would you like to renew that now?" he pressed further.

"Oh, I didn't realize it was finished. Yes, I guess now would be an okay time to renew it. What would I need to do?"

"Yes, _Charlie_, what would she need to do?" a harsh voice that was not his mother's said on the line.

"Charlie?" she questioned.

He quickly disconnected the phone, throwing it onto his bed. Who was that voice? Was his phone bugged? Or his mother's? How did they know it was him? What should—?

His cell phone rang again. Reluctantly he reached for it and opened it.

"Hello?"

"Charlie, you didn't honestly think you could call home without me finding out did you? And as a magazine salesman? Really? I'm a little disappointed Charlie. You're making this so easy. I know you're smarter than this. _I'm_ smarter than this and you are insulting my intelligence by playing my game this way," Elias Powers taunted from the other end of his phone.

"Powers. You stay away from my family. You stay away from me," he said, voice rising with every word.

"I wish I could, Charlie. I really do. But see, I have this little thing, where when someone wrongs me, I just can't let it go. I want to, but I can't," Powers said, almost joyfully.

"Stay away."

"Hmmm. No," Powers stated.

Charlie jumped as he heard a knock at the door. Cell phone still up to his ear, he crept toward the door. Mustering his courage, he swung the door open, only to find the hallway completely empty. He shut it again and turned around to see Elias Powers standing in his bedroom, a cell phone in one hand, a pipe in the other.

"Liked I said, I can't let things go," Powers said, before raising his arm and swinging the pipe towards him.

"NOO!" Charlie screamed before everything faded to black.

"NOOOOOO!" Charlie continued screaming as two strong hands shook his shoulders.

"Charlie! CHARLIE!" a voice said. Charlie reached up and touched his head. There was no blood. There was no pain. He opened his eyes to see Jim staring back at him, concern covering his features. Looking down, Charlie saw that he was still in his bed in the Parcells' guest room.

"What—what's going on?" he asked finally.

"You tell me," Jim said. "I came up here to tell you that dinner was ready; Ellie said you were taking a nap and I opened the door to find you screaming. Are you okay, Charlie?"

His breathing began to slow. "Yes, I-I guess I'm fine." He turned and saw his cell phone sitting on his nightstand, exactly where he had left it. "Just a bad dream. A very bad dream."

* * *

**xvii. wake me from this slumber : rush me, but leave time to wake**

"Hey are you okay?" Emma asked, as he came and sat down on the couch. She was all curled up under a blanket, a cup of tea in her hands, watching a movie.

"Yeah, okay," he confirmed.

"Jim told me what happened. And then you didn't come down to dinner. Do you want to talk about it?" she asked.

He gave her a sideways smile. "Not right now, if that's okay."

"Sure," she said, nodding and turning her attention back to the television.

"So, what are you watching?" he asked after a few minutes.

"'Breakfast at Tiffany's.' Only the best movie on the planet."

"Best movie? I don't think so," he said.

"Have you ever seen it?"

"No."

"Then hush. And watch," Emma said, smiling.

They sat there in silence, watching Holly Golightly romance her neighbor, Paul, interact with mobsters, and perhaps most importantly, eat breakfast while perusing the shops of New York City.

Somewhere in the middle of the film, Emma had taken her blanket and reached over to share it with Charlie, inching closer to him. He couldn't help but notice this. Recently, he always seemed to notice Emma's proximity to him.

They hadn't talked about the fact that he had kissed her three weeks earlier. Or the fact that she had kissed him back and then immediately left the room. And then acted as if nothing had changed. And maybe it hadn't and wasn't supposed to. Maybe the stress of this whole situation had just finally gotten the better of him and he had cracked under the pressure, acting completely out of character and, and . . .

And no matter how much rationalizing he did, he kept coming back to the same conclusion. He had wanted to kiss her that night. Heck, he had wanted to kiss her for a long time. He always knew that fact, no matter how much he had tried to not know it. It was why he couldn't sleep the night they were supposed to share a bed. If she had been any other of his friends, it wouldn't have been an issue. But Emma was never just "one of the guys." And she never would be.

Jim was right all along. There was a story with Emma. A long story.

He tried to turn his attention back to the screen. Holly was sitting in a cab on the side of the road trying to decide what to do with her life. Finally, _finally_, she made a decision. She rushed out of the cab, ran down the street and found Paul. And her cat. And of course, it was raining.

It was all a bit melodramatic for his taste. But then he realized something. "She's happy," he said quietly to himself.

"Hmm?" Emma asked, turning to look at him, tears forming in her eyes.

He shrugged. "She's happy," he said again as the credits began to roll.

"Yeah, she is," she replied, standing and turning off the movie. "Well, what did you think?"

"I can see why you like it. But I still believe the title of 'Best Movie Ever' has to go to 'Ferris Bueller's Day Off,'" he said, smiling and standing next to her.

"You would," Emma replied, punching him in the shoulder.

His fast reflexes came in handy as he reached up and stopped her hand, refusing to let go.

She quickly looked at him. "What are you—?"

"Look, I know you don't want to talk about it and I get it. I really do. Things could get awkward or weird or, or I don't know what else, but the thing is. . . the thing is that you're my Paul."

"I'm your what?" she asked.

"My Paul," he said pointing to the television set. "You make me reexamine things, my ideas, my whole life even and you keep pushing me to do what's right and to figure out exactly what that is," he said.

She looked up at him with a glimmer in her eye. "So in this analogy, you are Holly Golightly?" she questioned, laughing quietly to herself.

"What? No . . ."

"I'm sorry, I'm just envisioning you strutting up and down the New York City streets with some sort of beehive hair piece on and . . ." she had to stop talking because she was laughing so hard.

"You know what, never mind," he said, releasing her hand and brushing past her to go to his room.

Immediately she stopped laughing, "No Charlie, wait. I didn't mean to offend you. I'm sorry if you thought I wasn't listening. What did you want to say to me?"

He stood there looking at her, wondering if he really should continue with his train of thought. _Courage_, he thought to himself.

"I just, wanted to know where you stood after the whole thing, about where, um you thought maybe, um—"

Emma didn't say anything, but instead took a small step towards him. Placing one hand on the nape of his neck and the other behind his head, she slowly reached up and brought her lips to his. His hands found her waist and pulled her closer to him, as the kiss went deeper and faster until they were backing up, eventually backing right into the living room wall. Charlie didn't really know where any of this was coming from, but could only assume that the dammed wall of pent up attraction had finally broken open and that it was hard to stop the current once it had started. Emma's hands were on his face, then on his chest, then in his hair; his were bunched into the fabric of her shirt, as he pulled her closer and closer until she was leaning all of her weight against him. But he couldn't feel anything except for her lips on his and the fact that everything felt, like . . . like how it was always supposed to be. How he was always supposed to be. Fully alive.

Finally, they pulled apart for air. She bit her lip and looked up at him.

"Wow," she said, eyes shining.

"Yeah."

They stood there for a moment, before he reached for her elbows and straightened her position.

Leaning down, he placed his forehead on hers.

"C'mon, I'll walk you to your room," he said, interlacing his fingers with hers.

"Okay, Holly," she replied, teasingly.

* * *

**xviii. there's someone else inside my head, living there to fill me with dread**

"Stephen! If you stick your fingers in the cupcake batter one more time, I swear I will never let you eat another cupcake ever again!" Eleanor, shrieked, exasperated.

"But mom, it's so yummy!" Stephen replied, his eyes wide and seemingly innocent. Eleanor got a dishcloth from the sink and wiped Stephen's hands. And his face. And his shirt.

"I'll never understand how you manage to get everything you eat all over you. Where's your sister?" she questioned.

"Outside."

"Why don't you go get her?"

"Okay!" he said, running towards the doorway.

Emma entered the kitchen as Stephen was leaving it, resulting in an unforeseen crash as the two of them tumbled to the floor.

"Stephen!" Eleanor scolded.

"Oww. . ." Stephen said as he pulled himself up.

"Emma, are you alright?" Eleanor asked.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," Emma said, laughing.

"Stephen, what do you say?"

"Emma, do you want to come out and play with me and Mariella?"

"Stephen!"

"Oh, I mean, sorry I crashed into you, Emma," Stephen said, looking down at his Spiderman sneakers.

"It's okay, Stephen," Emma replied.

"Do you want to come out and play with me and Mariella now?" he asked eagerly.

"Maybe later, okay?"

"Okay. Mariella!" he shouted as he sprinted from the room.

Eleanor let out a huge sigh. "Where does he get that energy? He's just like his father you know. Always bouncing from one thing to the next with never a moment to just slow down and _breathe_."

Emma smiled. She loved hearing about Eleanor and Jim's relationship. They were so happy with each other and with their children.

She looked around the kitchen. It looked as if the Keebler Elf Factory had exploded. "What are you doing in here?" Emma asked.

"I volunteered to make cupcakes for Mariella and Stephen's school bake sale."

"Oh, do you need some help? How many do you have to make?"

Eleanor didn't look at Emma, but turned away and mumbled something.

"How many?" Emma questioned.

"400," Eleanor said finally, hanging her head. "I don't know how I get myself into these things. I just can't seem to say no."

"400?" Emma choked out. "Well I guess you do need some help. What can I do?"

"If you want to start measuring out flour, there's bowls on the island over there and the measuring cups are next to the oven."

"Okay, and where's the flour?"

"The flour, the flour . . . the flour is. . . where did I put that?" Eleanor said opening and closing cupboards with the speed of a Hero Rising avatar.

Suddenly Eleanor gasped. Emma whipped around saying "What? What is it?"

"I forgot to buy the extra flour. I knew I forgot something," she said, smacking her hand against her forehead.

At that moment the oven timer went off and Mariella and Stephen came bounding into the room. "Can I have a cupcake?" "No, me first!" "No, me!" "Well, I'm older!" "By two minutes, that doesn't mean anything!"

Eleanor pulled the pans of cupcakes out of the over, hushed the children, and turned to Emma. "Would you mind watching them while I run to the store?"

Emma looked nervously at the twins. "Sure . . ." she said. "Or, why don't I go to the store for you?"

Eleanor looked at her skeptically. "Do you really think that's a good idea?"

"It'll be fine. I'll make Charlie go with me."

"I don't know, Emma. You're supposed to lay low," Eleanor stated, her demeanor becoming more motherly with every word.

"We'll dress under the radar and just be really careful. Please, Eleanor. We haven't left the house in almost a month. Not that it hasn't been wonderful staying with you, it would just be nice for a quick change of scenery. We'll be back before you know it," Emma pleaded.

Finally, Eleanor relented. "Alright. . ."

Emma smiled and hurried out to the garage. Charlie had been spending a lot of time helping Jim restore his car. It gave him something to do and made him feel like he was being productive in some way.

"Charlie?" she called.

He slid out from underneath the car. "Hey," he said, smiling the widest grin she had seen from him in a long time.

"In the mood for a field trip?" she asked.

"You mean like outside of the house?"

"Mmmhmm."

"Definitely," he said, standing and brushing himself off. She motioned for him to follow her as they headed to his room.

She went directly to his dresser and opened the drawers. "What are you doing?" he asked, curious.

"Making you look like a normal teenage boy."

"Hey!"

She smiled and pulled out a gray sweatshirt. She walked over to his closet, swung open the door and grabbed his favorite baseball cap.

"Put these on," she ordered.

"I don't understand," he said, pulling the sweatshirt over his head.

"The only way Eleanor will let us go is if we blend in. And cover up. Where are your sunglasses?"

"In my bag," he said, pulling them out. She reached over and put them on his face, taking in his appearance.

"Perfect. Nobody would ever know that you are being sought after by dangerous criminals," she said.

"A wanted man, hmm?" he said amused.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not even gonna touch that one . . . give me a few minutes and I'll be ready to go."

Five minutes later she met Charlie in the kitchen dressed in a trendy vest, knit hat and glasses. He almost didn't recognize her at first. "Ready?"

Eleanor looked at both of them. "Please be careful."

Emma gave her a reassuring smile. "We will."

"So, where exactly are we going?" Charlie asked as he shut the front door behind them.

"Eleanor said there's a corner grocery a few blocks from here, so it'll just be a short walk."

"How'd you convince her to let us go?"

Emma shrugged. "I think she knew deep down that both of us just needed a little break. It's hard being cooped up for so long, especially where we had gotten into the habit of traveling every other day. I think we need to turn here," she said gesturing to the street corner.

They walked in silence, breathing in the fresh air and enjoying the sunshine. Since most everyone in the Parcells' neighborhood was at school or work, the streets were relatively quiet. The back of his hand brushed hers with every step they took. Finally he reached over and held it.

"I know it's difficult being stuck inside all the time," Emma said finally, "but I really do love it here."

"I know you do," Charlie said quietly.

Emma stopped walking and turned to look at him. "Charlie what are we gonna do? We can't stay with Jim and Eleanor forever."

He tilted his head up at the sky, so blue and open. "I know Emma, I kinda feel like we're—we're. . ." he trailed off as he noticed a shadowy figure that had been following them for the past few blocks.

He lowered his voice, "Hey, um, just, c'mon," he said, pulling her along. Emma noticed the expression change on his face and nodded, following him quickly.

"What's going on?" she whispered as they quickened their pace.

"There's somebody following us."

"Is it Powers? How could he know where we are?"

"I don't know who it is, but we need to lose them." They were almost to the store, so quickly Charlie led them through the automatic sliding doors and down one of the aisles.

They found a storage room off of the cereal aisle and silently ducked inside peering out through the circular windows of the swinging doors.

"Can you see who it is?" Emma asked.

"He's still following us that's for sure. He's outline looks familiar but he's wearing a hat. I can't tell. Oh, gosh, he's coming down this aisle," Charlie said, worriedly.

"Where's the nearest exit?" Emma looked frantically around. "Charlie, there isn't one in this room."

"Okay, okay. Think. He's coming this way. . . he's turning around. Oh, no . . ." he stated as the shadowy figure came closer to their hiding spot. Finally, the man took off his hat.

"STAN?" both Emma and Charlie said in unison. They stumbled out from the storage room.

"Aaron. Emma." Stan nodded curtly to both of them.

"Stan, what are you doing here?" Charlie asked.

"I've got some information that I thought you needed to know. Mr. Hall doesn't know I'm here, so we need to move to a more secure location," Stan said, looking at the selection of Cookie Crisp and Special K.

"Stan, you've gone rogue?" Emma asked, pride shining from her face.

"Well, yes I suppose you could call it that," he said, his face finally breaking into a smile.

Charlie grinned at him before enveloping him in a hug.

"It's good to see you again, Stan."

The three walked to a park a short distance from the Parcells' house.

"So, what's this information that we need to know?" Charlie asked.

Stan gestured for them to sit on a picnic table.

"The Omega Defiance has been destroyed."

"What?" Charlie and Emma both said.

"It's true. We believe Necros is the only one still alive and he is being held captive."

"How is this possible?" Charlie questioned.

"Did you ever hear about Sector 21?" Stan asked. "Sector 21 was a lab created by the Omega Defiance. They performed all sorts of tests there, tests on human subjects."

Emma and Charlie listened, entranced.

"Well, these human subjects, these mutants, are deformed and yet each has a certain ability. Telekinesis, shape shifting, unusual strength, the ability to radiate fire. These abilities render the mutants extremely dangerous. They all lived at Sector 21 until recently when they banded together against the Omega Defiance and escaped, killing all except Necros."

They stared at Stan, stunned.

"The Omega Defiance is dead?" Charlie repeated.

"Yes," Stan said, "their terrible corroboration is over."

"So that means. . ."

". . . we can go home," Emma finished.

"No," Charlie said, touching Emma's arm. "We can't. Powers is still out there." He looked up at Stan. "Right?"

"That is correct. But it means that the only person that you have to defeat to get your freedom back, Charlie, is Powers. There's no risk of him sharing his information with the Omega Defiance anymore, because there is no Omega Defiance anymore," Stan concluded.

Charlie sighed and thought for a moment. It was a lot to take in. "Okay. We fight Powers. We can do this now for sure." He looked at Emma, nudging her with his shoulder. "Ready to counterattack?"

She smiled at him, "Definitely. But how? I mean, where do we start?"

"I have some ideas about that," Stan said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a photograph. He handed it to Charlie and Emma.

"What's this?" Charlie asked. It was a picture of a smiling family, a dad who couldn't have been more than thirty, a young mom happily leaning into her husband, while holding a toddler-aged little girl whose eyes and hair matched her dad's exactly. They looked so wholesome. And happy.

"Look closer," Stan said. Emma and Charlie leaned in.

"Oh my gosh," Emma gasped. "Charlie, that's. . ."

"Elias Powers. And his wife and daughter."

* * *

_A/N: The longest chapter yet! And another cliffhanger. Sorry about that. I can't help it! Thank you so much for sticking with this story, for reviewing, for providing feedback. I take each review to heart and I appreciate knowing that someone is reading this story. You are all wonderful. Please let me know what you thought of this chapter. Love. _


	7. consume me like a fire

"**Still Here Hoping That One Day You May Come Back"**

by: singyourmelody

Disclaimer: Don't own any Aaron Stone characters. Never will. Story title is from Noah and the Whale's "The First Day of Spring." Section titles are from Yellowcard's "Only One," Needtobreathe's "Something Beautiful," and The Avett Brothers' "If It's the Beaches" respectively.

I want to apologize (again) for how long it has taken me to update this story. It's been ridiculously long and it's not right and I'm sorry. Spoilers for this chapter only go through the second episode of the second season. Would you believe that that's only how far I've seen? Yeah, I have some serious catching up to do.

* * *

**ixx. but there's just no one who gets me like you do : you are my only, my only one**

"How do you know if you're doing the right thing?" Charlie asked as he and Jim lifted the new windshield onto the car frame.

"Well, that depends. Does it feel inherently wrong in any way? Your instincts are always a good guide, Charlie."

"No, not necessarily. But maybe. I don't know. That's part of the problem," he responded.

"Hmm. Will someone be hurt by your actions?" Jim questioned.

"It's possible. Obviously I don't want anyone to be hurt, but they may be, in the process of the whole thing. I, I can't give you specifics, you know, but, well, Emma and I may be leaving soon, and I just want to make sure that our next step is the right one," Charlie finished as he applied sealer to the newly placed window.

"It is hard to know what's the right thing to do, Charlie. Sometimes we don't ever know until we are doing it. I'd guess I'd just have to tell you to go with your gut. It's never steered you wrong before, has it?"

"Only when it told me to get involved with Mr. Hall . . ." Charlie mumbled.

Jim stopped what he was doing and looked up at Charlie. "Do you really believe that?"

Charlie thought for a moment. If he had never become Aaron Stone he would have never had to lie to his family about his death. He would have never had to go on the run. He would have never had to give up his college education. But he also would have never met Emma. Or Stan. Or Jim and Eleanor. He would have never learned what he could be if he tried. He would have never been able to help people, even if it was only for a short time.

"No, I guess not," Charlie said eventually. "It's just hard sometimes."

"I know it is," Jim said sympathetically. "What does Emma think about it?"

Charlie looked away.

"C'mon, I know there's something there with Emma. She's here for a reason. I know that she's not just your sidekick or whatever," Jim said smiling.

Charlie ignored his question and focused on applying the sealant.

"Charlie. . ."

"I don't feel like I can talk to her about it," he said finally.

"Why? The two of you seem pretty close."

"We are and that's just it. I can't talk to her about it, because what we are going to being doing is dangerous and I don't actually want her to be a part of it," Charlie admitted.

Jim tilted his head to the side, "Why not?"

"Because, because something has changed in our relationship and it's different now and I care about her too much to let her get hurt."

"And you're afraid she'll get hurt during this mission."

"Yes, and she's not the only one. There's other people involved too. I'm afraid they will all get hurt. This entire thing is between me and one other person and I couldn't stand it if others got in the way and ended up. . ." he trailed off, not wanting to think about what may come next.

Jim was silent for a moment before finally speaking. "Do you need Emma?"

"Huh?" Charlie asked. "Yeah, I mean I guess we need her for this mission. . ."

"Forget about the mission. Do you need her?"

Charlie looked down at the windshield. Its glass was perfect, crystal clear, because it had never been used. One ride would change that. Yet it had to be done. That was its purpose. To provide protection and be the way for the passengers to see the world beyond the glass.

Quietly he said, "Yes, I need her. In every way."

"And do you think she would stand for staying behind while you put yourself in danger? Especially when she knows she could help you?"

Charlie laughed, thinking about his feisty brunette. "No, she wouldn't."

"Did I ever tell you how I knew that Ellie was the one?" Jim asked.

"No," he replied.

Jim smiled as if he loved telling the story he was about to share. "We met in high school actually, not unlike you and Emma. She was an all around brainiac, valedictorian, class president, yearbook editor, all that stuff, and I was a jock. 'A dumb jock' she would always say." He paused and flipped up an imaginary collar. "I like to think that was before she really knew of my true intelligence. We would fight all the time. In class, in between class. We weren't even friends, but we still always managed to be in each other's way.

"I had never met anyone quite like her. She could get under my skin in a matter of seconds, with her all around bossiness, her incessant need to be right, and the fact that almost all of the time she _was_ right. She drove me crazy. And I did the same to her. She was somewhat of a queen bee and was used to getting her own way, so I did my best to make her work for it. I joined the yearbook staff as a photo editor, just to fight with her, actually." Jim stopped and smiled. "That seems like so long ago now. Anyway, I think you get the picture. One day, we were arguing over the football spread in the sports section of the book. I wanted to let it have more of a chaotic, school spirit sort of feel, but Ellie, she was all about order back then, straight out refused. We argued. She insulted my intelligence. I told her that comment was getting old. She said my attitude was getting old and I told her that my attitude would stay right where it was, because somebody had to keep her crazy in check. I thought she was going to kill me. She took a step towards me to say something and I reach out and kissed her."

Charlie raised his eyebrows at Jim, "And that's when you knew?"

"Oh, no. I didn't know she was the one when I kissed her. After we broke apart she looked at me with this strange mix of admiration and hatred, reached out and slapped me right across the face. She stomped off and _that's_ when I knew. She was it."

"So she hits you and you fall in love with her?" Charlie smiled.

"Yup, I knew then. I had to work at it though. After that we called a somewhat truce. We ended up going to the same college and I had to pursue her every day for a year before she'd go out with me. We were engaged a month later."

"You're kidding me."

"Nope, when you know, you know, Charlie. And she wouldn't admit it to me for the longest time, but she fell in love with me long before we actually started dating. I think somewhere around the time that I accidently serenaded the girls in the dorm room next to hers—I mean, how was I supposed to know she had switched rooms, really? Anyway, the reason I told you all of this is because you have to remember that she's thinking about things too. You say you need Emma. Well I bet you anything that she needs you too. And not just for missions. For everything."

Charlie nodded. "So, maybe I should go talk to her about all of this."

Jim smiled, "Yeah, maybe you should."

* * *

**xx. this is my desire, consume me like a fire, 'cause i just want something beautiful**

He found her on the back porch swing reading a book.

"Hey," he said softly, moving to sit down next to her. She smiled and picked up her legs, allowing for him to sit. Gently, she placed them on his lap.

"Hey yourself."

"Can I talk to you?" he asked.

"I thought that was what we were doing," she said, teasingly.

"It's about the mission."

Emma set her book aside and gave him her full attention. "Okay."

"I'm not sure about it. About involving Powers' family. They've done nothing to us and I know how I would feel if someone got to my mom and Jason. Heck, that's the whole reason we're here, doing this," he stared out at the sky. The sun was starting to set turning everything a hazy pink. Half consciously, he drew small circles on the top of Emma's ankle with his finger.

"I wondered about that."

"About what?"

"How you would feel about using his family against him. As soon as Stan said it, I thought it was a brilliant idea, but then I looked at you. You were staring at the ground and I began to wonder if we really would be crossing a line." Emma sat up straight and inched closer to Charlie. He leaned forward and rested his chin in his hands.

"I just, I'm not sure here, Emma. For the first time in a long time."

Slowly, she rested her chin on his shoulder. "You know what?" she asked.

Charlie turned and looked in her eyes. Their noses were practically touching.

"I'm not sure either." She half smiled at him. "I think you've been rubbing off on me, Mr. Landers. Before I met you, I wouldn't have thought twice about Stan's plan. I would've jumped at it. All of my training tells me that this is the thing to do."

"And what about now?" Charlie asked.

"Now I see a bigger picture. What this might mean for Powers' daughter. To be kidnapped? To suffer the emotional stress involved, not to mention the chance for physical harm. I'm not saying that we shouldn't do this. I just think we need to think about it a little more. To see if it's really worth the risks," she sighed and then smiled her biggest smile at him. "I don't know Charlie, but I think you've made me soft."

She leaned forward, closing the half an inch space between them. As her lips moved over his and her hand reached down to interlock their fingers, he knew he could never leave her behind. He needed her too much. And as she deepened the kiss and as he felt her pull him even closer to her, he thought that maybe Jim was right and that she needed him too.

Emma finally pulled away. "So what are we gonna do?" she asked quietly.

"Hmm?" Charlie asked, his eyes closed. "Oh, about the mission," he said. "You've got to stop doing that."

"Doing what?" Emma asked, her eyes wide and seemingly innocent.

"Making me lose my train of thought."

She leaned closer to him and with a hint of a smile whispered, "Never."

He held her gaze for just a second longer before focusing on the question at hand.

Clearing his throat he started, "Okay, I get why Stan came up with this idea. We need to even the playing field so to speak. This whole time Powers has had the upper hand. He's been the one calling all of the shots. And we need to turn the tables on him. Fight fire with fire."

"Right, but if we do that, does that mean that we are like him?" Emma wondered aloud.

"I don't know. Our intentions aren't like his. We just want our lives back."

"And he just wants to hurt you," Emma supplied.

"And he would do anything to do that, including hurting my family. We wouldn't hurt his family, right?" Charlie asked, questioning.

Emma didn't answer right away. "Not intentionally. But there's always the chance that something could go wrong."

"So if we do this," Charlie said slowly, "we're really no better than he is, are we?"

She didn't say anything right away. Charlie felt the silence envelop them.

"I think—" Emma began, "I think that this is hard Charlie, but that this may be the only way to end it. We need to fight like him to beat him. Let's face it, Charlie, Powers always has been your most difficult opponent. In a way, he created you. He already knows how you think because he created the game that taught you how to think. At least how to think like Aaron Stone. If that's the case. . ."

". . . then he must think that I'm limited by my Aaron Stone training. And Aaron Stone would never kidnap his family. Aaron Stone is not usually on the offensive. Aaron Stone doesn't start the fight," Charlie continued.

"And you're not Aaron Stone anymore," she finished.

He turned and looked at her sharply.

"Unless you want to be," Emma said.

"I want my life back. And I will get it back. But I want to still be me when I get there. I don't want to lose that part of me that makes me different from him. Does that make sense?" Charlie asked.

"Yeah, it does," she said.

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "Are you okay with that?"

"You mean, not doing this whole thing?"

"Yeah."

She looked away for a moment, before finally saying, "Yeah. If this is what you feel is right, then I am right there with you."

"Okay."

"Okay," she said. He pulled her closer to him as he gently rocked the swing back and forth.

* * *

**xxi. if it's the beaches sands you want, then you will have them : i will rearrange my plans and change for you**

"Psst."

"Charlie. Emma."

"Psst."

"PSST!"

Charlie sat upright, knocking Emma to the side. It took him a second to figure out his surroundings. He was still on the porch swing. He and Emma must have fallen asleep there. He looked up to see Stan standing over him.

"Took you long enough to wake up."

"Stan? What are you—I thought we decided that you needed to stay out of sight."

"Stan?" Emma asked, rubbing her eyes.

"You both need to get your things. We have to go now."

"Oh, about that. . ." Charlie began. "We've talked it over. We're not going to kidnap Powers' family. It's just not right."

Stan looked at him confused. "This isn't about that. Well it is somewhat. But not entirely. Just go get your things. I'll explain in the car."

Both Charlie and Emma stared at him, but didn't move.

Stan sighed. "Fine. Charlie, we've intercepted a trace that Powers put on your mother and brother. We think he's going to move in on them within the next day or two to get to you."

Charlie stood quickly. "But Dan's with them. Powers won't be able to get to them right? Because Dan's there. Right?"

"Well, we hope not. I think our best bet would be to try to get to Powers before he gets to your family."

"Do we even know where he is?" Emma questioned.

"I've got Luann working on that right now," Stan replied, as he ushered them into the Parcells' darkened house.

"Who's Luann?"

"Mr. Hall's latest. The 'Locating Ubiquity Assisting Nocturnal Neo-human.' Only one of the best Neo-humans ever created. Present company excluded," Stan replied. Charlie couldn't be sure, but it seemed as if Stan almost blushed while talking about Luann. "She's fresh off of the line and working on the location as we speak. So go get your things!"

Charlie and Emma hurried quietly up the stairs and retrieved what few things they had brought with them, careful not to wake the Parcells.

The reconvened with Stan in the kitchen. "I'll go get the car from your hiding spot and will meet you out front," he said, before he disappeared out the door.

Emma hoisted her bag over her shoulders and looked around the shadowed kitchen. She shook her head. "Charlie, it doesn't feel right to leave like this. After everything they've done for us."

"I know," Charlie said. "But, my family. . ."

Emma looked away. "I know." She walked over to the counter and found a piece of paper and a pen. Quickly she scribbled a note of goodbye.

"Do you want to sign it?" she asked, her voice thick. Charlie walked over and read what she wrote.

_Jim and Eleanor,_

_Thanks for everything. We would not have made it this far without your support and encouragement. _

_Love always,_

_Emma and Charlie_

Emma set the pen down and walked away from the counter.

"Hey," Charlie said, catching up to her, nudging her shoulder. "When this is all over, we'll come back here. Me and you. And say a proper goodbye."

She nodded. "Okay."

The shut the door to the Parcells' home and got in the car where Stan was waiting.

"So, what now?" Emma asked, when she could no longer see the white house with blue shutters that had become a second home.

"Now we pay a visit to Powers' family," Charlie said.

Emma looked at him, surprise covering her face.

"Charlie, but what about everything you said before?"

Charlie didn't look at her but continued looking straight ahead. "That was before he made real on his threat against my family," he said, before turning to meet her eyes. "We're going to end this, Emma, for once and for all. Now."

The car drove silently into the night.

* * *

_A/N: So this was somewhat of a talky chapter. Lots of going back and forth about what to do. I know there wasn't a lot of action, and I'm sorry about that. It's coming though, believe me. Once again, thank you so much for reading and reviewing. I love knowing that I'm not alone in this writing process, that someone is reading and partaking in the process with me. Love._


	8. we did it when we were young

"**Still Here Hoping That One Day You May Come Back"**

by: singyourmelody

Disclaimer: Don't own any Aaron Stone characters. Never will. Story title is from Noah and the Whale's "The First Day of Spring." Section titles are from The Gaslight Anthem's incredible song "We Did It When We Were Young."

Okay, I know it's been forever and a day since I last updated and I apologize for that. I had a REALLY hard time writing this chapter, mainly because of the second season of the show. I've seen a couple of episodes (random ones, not in order, which doesn't help) but I've had a hard time being interested in it for some reason. Charlie seems different and I'm not sure I like the comic store set up and the characters who come with it and I really want it to go back to the days of Charlie, Emma, Stan and Jason. I did see the series finale which did not wrap anything up, but I think that the writers didn't know it was the series finale so it's forgivable. Anyway, this is all to say that I had really bad writer's block and I'm sorry about that. This is the longest chapter yet. Does that make up for it a little bit? Maybe?

* * *

**xxii. but i am older now, and we did it when we were young**

_**July 2004**_

"Could you pass the sugar?" the young man asked, his voice quiet, unobtrusive.

The redhead smiled as she picked up the shaker from the counter they were standing at. His eyes were downcast as to avoid hers, but she ducked down to meet them. "Here you go," she said, happily holding out her hand.

"Thanks," he mumbled, finally looking up. He took in her appearance. Dark green eyes so friendly he almost wanted to vomit. Auburn locks casually pulled back in a fastener, little hairs slipping out from every direction. And a tan turtleneck even though it was the middle of August. She was kind of a mess. And he could not look away.

She could though. Picking up her own mug of coffee, she headed back to her table where an open book laid waiting.

He didn't know what made him do it, but he followed her.

He never did things like that. Sure his college friends did and always encouraged him to get out there and try the dating scene, meet someone, hook up, fall in love. All that stuff he had never been very good at.

And yet, here he was.

"Is this seat taken?" he asked, trying to sound as if he was not hyperventilating at the thought of sitting next to this girl.

The girl looked up and around at the dozen of empty tables.

"Um, no I guess not."

"Thanks," he said, setting his cup on the table. The girl looked at him awkwardly for a moment, before turning back to her book.

"What are you reading?" he asked, as he reached for his bag to retrieve his own book.

"Oh, um," she said, as she held up her book so that he could read the title.

"The History of Love," he read aloud. "I've never heard of it. Is it good?"

She thought for a moment. "Yeah, it is. It's a little sad. I mean, it's about love so of course it's going to be sad, but. . ." she trailed off.

He shook his head. "What do you mean? Isn't love usually a happy thing?"

She paused again. "Reciprocated love is happy. Love that occurs at the right time is happy. But so often things don't work out. That's why it's sad. I mean, can you imagine being in love with someone but not being able to be with them? To love them your whole life, even when you know that there is no chance that it will work out between you? But to also know that no matter what you do, you can't erase that person from your heart? It's devastating."

He stared at her, as if he was seeing her for the first time, even though the first time he had seen her was only moments before.

She looked down at her book and blushed. "Sorry. My sisters always tell me I talk too much."

"No," he said sincerely, "You don't."

They sat in silence for a minute before she nudged her head towards his book. "What are you reading?"

Mirroring her actions from before, he held up his book.

She read the title. "Critical Essays on 'Battlestar Galatica'. Wait, isn't that a sci-fi TV show?"

He nodded.

"And people write critical essays on it?"

He nodded again.

"And you read them."

"Yes."

"Wow," she said smiling. "You're a dork."

He smiled back, feeling a bit more comfortable. "Technically we prefer the term 'geek.'"

"Oh," she nodded, knowingly. "Geek."

"Yes," he said, a small smile slipping onto his face.

They continued talking for the better part of an hour. Like him, she was a recent college graduate, somewhat unsure about the future and what might come next. While he had an internship with a well known physicist lined up, she hadn't made any formal plans. But listening to her talk about what she might want to do someday, even if that someday was a long way off, he couldn't help but be envious of her vision for her life. She wanted to be a counselor. To help people through their everyday lives, to help them make their lives better. He had never been that sure about anything.

"I don't know if I could listen to people talk about their problems for hours on end," he said finally of her future career.

She nodded slightly. "Why don't you think you could do it?"

"It would be so depressing. People have a lot of crap going on in their lives. I don't need to know about it."

"Maybe. It depends on your outlook on life I think. Why do you think your outlook is so opposed to a counseling lifestyle?"

"I don't know. . . wait a minute! Are you trying to counsel me right now?" he exclaimed.

She smiled as she raised an eyebrow. "Maybe."

He laughed a full laugh. One he hadn't done in a long, long time. He nodded approvingly. "You'll be great."

They fell into a comfortable silence.

"Well, geek, would you like some more coffee?" she said eventually, lowering her tone. "I come here so often that Bart lets me have free refills."

He looked down at his half empty cup. "Sure, thanks." He watched her walk up to the counter as if the small shop was her home.

A few minutes later she sat back down. "I got you 'Jamaican Me Crazy.' It's my favorite. You'll have to let me know what you think."

"Will do," he said, taking a sip.

They both went back to reading, pages turning almost in sync with the smooth jazz that poured out of the stereo system.

A half an hour later the girl slipped her book in her bag and got up to leave. His head snapped up as he watched her walk away, helpless to bring her back.

Suddenly she stopped and walked back to him. "I come here a lot, so I might see you again and I just realized that I don't even know your name. I'm Laura." She stuck out her hand.

Standing and shaking her hand, his eyes met hers once again. "Elias."

* * *

**xxiii. there are no reasons to believe : i buried my faith in another plot**

"That's them. Over there." Stan said from his position low in his seat.

"Are you sure?" Charlie asked. He held up the photograph. "The little girl looks a lot older."

"She is older. Kindergarten aged, I think. Our intel said that that photo was taken almost three years ago. It's them, Charlie."

He sighed.

"Okay, let's do this," he said, hand reaching for the car door handle.

"Wait," Emma said from the backseat. She had been strangely quiet for the entire ride.

Charlie turned and looked at her.

Emma searched his eyes for a moment. She knew those eyes so, so well. Chocolate brown. Friendly. Usually so calm and collected. But at that moment, his eyes were cloudy, as if Charlie was in some sort of daze.

"Emma, what is it?" Charlie asked, impatiently.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" she asked firmly. Emma knew that if anyone was going to get through to him, she had to be the one.

He looked away briefly and then leaned forward.

"Emma, I have to do this. And I can't do it if you are constantly questioning me. I need your support, I need you. . ." he paused, his voice breaking just a little. "I need you backing me up here. You said you were with me no matter what."

"I am, Charlie!" she exclaimed, louder than she had intended. Stan snapped his head around at her voice. "But it's also my job to make sure you are sure about this. Eight hours ago you were completely against this idea. You talked _me_ out of it. So I'm going to ask you again, are you certain you want to do this?"

"I am," Charlie said, resolutely, turning back in his seat.

"Okay," she said quietly, nodding.

He placed two small plugs in his ears, reached for the door handle and stepped out of the car. Emma plugged her own ears with the small bits Stan had given them and followed behind.

They approached the school bus stop where the red haired woman and her young daughter stood. Thankfully no other children or parents had arrived yet.

"Mrs. Greene said that the field trip will be next week and yesterday Brandon asked if he could sit next to me on the bus," the girl was saying. "But I don't want to sit next to him and I don't have to, right?"

The woman smiled, "Of course not. You can sit next to whoever you want."

The girl grinned back.

Charlie cleared his throat, catching the attention of the woman and girl.

"Laura Powers?" he asked.

"Yes?" she questioned, instinctively pulling her daughter closer.

"I'm going to have to ask you and your daughter to come with us," Charlie said.

"Who are you?" Laura asked, her brow furrowed.

"It's best if you ask questions later," Emma said, pulling a small device from her pocket.

Laura started stepping backwards, pulling her daughter with her. "We're not going anywhere with you."

Charlie turned and gave Emma a slight nod. With the push of a few buttons, a small signal emitted from the device and both Laura and her daughter dropped to the sidewalk, unconscious. Stan quickly drove the car around as Charlie and Emma loaded their new detainees into it.

Hurriedly they hopped into the car, as Stan drove off into the daylight.

"I've never committed a crime before," Emma whispered.

"It's a new day for all of us," Charlie commented, coldly, removing the plugs from his ears.

Stan continued driving for several hours before announcing that they needed to pull over for gas. Emma propped a pillow under Laura's head to make it appear that she and her daughter were sleeping.

"Just in case anyone at the gas station sees them," she explained.

Stan pulled the car over by the gas pump and Charlie hurried out. "I'm going to the restroom," he said.

Stan shot a look at Emma, so she followed him.

Slowly she opened the sketchy bathroom door. "Charlie?" she called out, as she took in the graffiti covered walls.

He was hunched over the sink, splashing water onto his face. He jumped when she approached him. "Emma! This is the men's room. You're not supposed to be in here."

"I know," she said quietly. "I just wanted to make sure you're okay."

"I'm fine," he said, his voice absent of any emotion.

"Yeah, and I'm the Queen of England." She searched his face for any sign of his true state. "Tell me. What is it?" she said, reaching up to touch his face.

He leaned into her touch which she considered to be a good sign. He closed his eyes. "I have to stay guarded. Otherwise, I won't be able to finish this. I . . . I can't have any emotions."

She shook her head. "That's not true. You have to stay in touch with your emotions. That's what makes you different from him. Your emotions are what make you _you_."

He didn't respond so she tried another approach.

"Charlie, look at me."

He finally opened his eyes to meet her gaze.

"You will never be like him. You can't. It's not in you. So don't do this, this thing where you retreat into your own head. We can't win if you're all up here," she said pointing to his head. "We need this too," she said, placing her palm on his chest, over his heart.

"Okay," he whispered. He took a deep breath. "I'll try."

She smiled, "That's all I wanted to hear." Emma grabbed his hand and led him out of the restroom.

He stopped her right outside of the car. "I haven't even asked how you're doing. Talk about being the worst boy—" he stopped himself short of saying the word _boyfriend_. With everything going on, they hadn't really talked about labels. "Er, friend ever," he said, recovering.

He saw a flash of something reflect on Emma's face, a mixture of hurt and something that looked like understanding. She touched his arm. "I'm fine," she said, echoing his earlier words, as she got into the backseat.

Mentally kicking himself, he looked up at the sky, a swirl of purple and pink, clouds and sunset, and got into the car.

Some time later, when the pinky sky had melted into a dark midnight, Charlie turned and looked at Powers' family. They looked so normal. How could this nice young woman have been married to Elias Powers? How could she had fallen in love with him? How does one love someone so evil? Turning back to watch the road pass beneath them, Charlie realized that maybe he didn't really know anything about love.

Love. Just the thought of the word made him feel scared and exhilarated at the same time. And he couldn't help but think that it all had to do with a certain weapons specialist who was asleep in the back seat.

"What are you smiling at over there?" Stan asked, curious.

Charlie straightened up. "Oh, um, nothing." He stretched his arms. "Where are we going anyway, Stan?"

Stan shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Right. That. We're almost there actually. We've located Powers. He's planning on arriving at—"

Suddenly Charlie recognized his surroundings.

"Stan. We're going _home_?" Charlie asked, incredulously.

"Shh!" Stan exclaimed, motioning to the backseat. "Yes, we are going home. We think Powers was planning on attacking your family tonight. Before you say anything else," he said, holding up a hand to silence Charlie's protests, "we've moved them. Dan 'won' a free weekend getaway and convinced your mother and Jason to go with him, as a thank you for their hospitality."

Charlie let out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding. "So they aren't home?"

"No. But Powers doesn't know that."

Charlie sat thoughtful for a moment. "All of this running only to wind up right back here," he said, as Stan pulled in the familiar driveway.

"Back here to fix things. To make everything right again," Stan gently corrected him.

"Yes, to make everything right again," Charlie repeated, as if trying to convince himself.

Stan reached over and gently squeezed his shoulder. "Let's go face Elias Powers, Aaron Stone."

Charlie smiled at the mention of his name. Aaron Stone.

* * *

**xxiv. we were strangers many hours . . . and i missed you for so long**

"Ready?" Emma asked.

Charlie checked the knots on the ropes holding Laura's hands and those on her daughter.

"Yes," he said. Emma pressed a few buttons on the device they had used earlier and another small signal woke Powers' family.

Laura looked up groggily. "Where am I?" she asked.

Charlie looked around. Even with only one dim light on, his living room was just as he had remembered it. Pictures of him and Jason at various ages. A vase holding fresh flowers on the coffee table. Jason's video game equipment lining the floor around the television. It was comforting and unsettling at the same time. Even though their living area looked the same, he couldn't help but question how much had changed within his family since his "death." Probably a lot.

"Anna? Anna?" Laura called out. "Where's my daughter?" she demanded.

"I'm right here, mommy," the little girl called out from next to her. Her chair was slightly behind Laura's, enough that she couldn't see her.

"Are you okay, baby?"

"Mmhmm," Anna responded.

"Why are you doing this to us?" Laura pressed.

Emma turned to look at Charlie. He knew he needed to be the one to explain this.

"We're not doing it to you, per say," he began. "It's more because of someone in your life."

Laura looked confused for a moment before recognition passed over her features. She closed her eyes. "Elias. What have you gotten us into now?"

"Listen, I'm Charlie. This is Emma. We don't mean any harm to you or your daughter. It's just that Powers has. . . he's threatened me and my family and the only way to make him stop, to end all of this was to involve you. We don't want to hurt you at all. We just needed a bargaining chip," Charlie half-apologized.

"A bargaining chip? A bargaining chip? My daughter and I are not a bargaining chip," Laura stated.

"No, no. I didn't mean it like that," Charlie said, flustered. He turned to Emma for help.

"Laura. Anna. We don't want to hurt you. We just need him to remove the threat against Charlie's family. Then both of you'll be free to go," Emma supplemented.

"I don't know anything."

"What?" Charlie asked.

"I don't know anything. About his plans or what he intends to do to your family. I haven't seen Elias in almost two years. Anna barely remembers her father. Why are you bringing us into this? We have no part in it," Laura stated.

"I know, it's just. . ." Charlie began.

"No, you don't know. You have no idea what it's been like." She paused, eyes downcast. "He wasn't always like this you know. He was kind, funny, gentle. All of that changed when Eliana was killed," she said quietly.

"Who's Eliana?" Emma asked.

"Who's Eliana? You really don't know anything, do you? Eliana is, _was_, Elias's twin sister."

"There was nothing in his file of a twin sister," Stan said, entering the room.

"Well, there probably wasn't much of a file before her death, now was there?" Laura said, her voice raising with every word. "Eliana worked for some sort of organization. I never knew what it was. CIA maybe. FBI. Something. She was just as smart as Elias, so it was really no surprise that she would work for the government. They thought she was a double agent. So she went off the grid to clear her name. Elias spent a year looking for her and for evidence that would save her reputation. A year that was pure hell for me and Anna. He was completely consumed with finding her. Nothing else mattered. Not Anna saying her first words or taking her first steps. He didn't care about anything else. One day he had a breakthrough. He stumbled across some information about her location. He must of hacked into some government database or something, but by the time he got there she was dead.

"That was it. He flew home and began working even more profusely than before on something he wouldn't tell me about. I searched his home office one night when he was sleeping and found what looked like to be an anti-government plan. He found me looking through his things and told me that it was our own government that had killed Eliana. That she was innocent but that they killed her anyway. And he packed his things. He said he couldn't do what he needed to do with us around. I begged him to stay, to go back to the way things used to be. Back to when we were young and in love and got married and had Anna. But he told me things could never go back to what they were. That this was how things were now. And he left. I haven't seen him since," she finished, two tears barreling down her cheeks.

No one said anything.

"So you see? I can't help you. He doesn't care about us. You can't use us as a bargaining chip or whatever you plan to do. He wouldn't trade anything for us," she concluded.

Charlie, Emma, and Stan exchanged a look. Powers had been their enemy for so long, it was difficult to think of him in any other light. But what if Eliana had been Jason? Charlie thought to himself. Wouldn't Charlie have sacrificed everything to find him?

It was a lot to take in, but he couldn't think of that for too long. Because at that moment, Anna looked behind where they were standing and exclaimed, "Daddy!"

* * *

_A/N: Thanks to all my faithful readers. If you're still reading this, you are amazing and I appreciate it. Please review and love to all._


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